Those Who Run
by TotallyLosingIt
Summary: "Flash's eyes widened and, before he could stop himself, he was turning and running. He didn't know why he did it—actually, no, he did. He'd always been a runner. He'd been running from his problems for as long as he could remember." -set during DWF-


**And here I thought I was done writing Wally stories. _Psych! _I just got finished listening to the Graphic Audio version of Crisis on Infinite Earths. I cried a lot. Honestly, this is the first time I've even looked at Barry as a speedster. I didn't like him before, but you know what? He's not bad, not bad at all.**

**Of course, after listening to _that _for seven hours straight I was just completely and utterly annoyed at the lack of Wally in a book that was written in Barry's POV. So I wrote this. **

**It also occurs to me that this is my version of that epic scene in Divided We Fall where Flash completely and utterly kicks Brainiac-Luthor's ass. That was purely accidental, but now I can check this one off the list of "Amazing Things Wally Did That I Wrote In My Own Angsty Prose". **

**Disclaimer: Usually Wally comes up and does this for me, but it's, like, one in the morning and he's off either kicking bad guy tail feathers or sleeping like a rock. I didn't have the heart to wake him just to say, "Lost ain't even close to being rich enough to owning Justice League Unlimited, any DC characters affiliated with it, or Wally West in general." Seems like a lost cause. No pun intended.**

Flash had been in a lot of situations where he was truly, utterly screwed. He couldn't count them on both hands and both feet and have fingers—and toes—left. It was a part of being a superhero, or at least, that's what he told himself. But sometimes even being the Fastest Man Alive wasn't good enough, and sometimes, he got his butt kicked.

He could handle getting his butt kicked.

This was a little extreme.

Brainiac-Luthor was standing in front of him in all his gold-plated glory. He was smirking. Last time Flash checked, robots didn't smirk. Did this mean that Luthor was in control now, that he really was all for destroying the world? Flash knew Luthor was a crazy power-hungry psychopath, but for him to go _this _far?

He attempted a weak grin, just to see if he really was in there somewhere. "You lose."

Flash was aware of liquid metal _things _wrapping themselves around his wrists, growing until they were soldiers—soldiers belonging to _whom?_—who were holding him fast. He could get out of their grasp easily, but he was still reeling from the bright yellow beam of light that'd blasted him full in the face.

_ "Hardly." _ Brainiac-Luthor's voice sounded like a freaking voice-over, all mechanic and yet totally Luthor at the same time. _"Look around you. The Justice League is completed defeated, and so are you."_

Flash looked around him. He was immensely horrified to see that the other six teammates of his were all unconscious, strewn about like rag dolls under a pile of rubble. He'd only been glanced off of by the beam of excruciating pain, unlike the others. Maybe that was why he was still awake to see the end of the world coming.

_"For all your efforts you have but _inconvenienced _me, _speck." Brainiac-Luthor did his stupid liquid-metal thing again and, to Flash's horror, created a shotgun. A _shotgun. Seriously? Of all things to kill me with? "But—"_ and he said this with a smirk, _"—I am still human enough to enjoy _taking my revenge."

Flash tried to glare as he looked up at the robot-man hybrid, but he just didn't have the energy. His skin felt tingly from the yellow beam, his head thudded with uncontrollable pain, and it was taking everything he had not to pass out right here in front of his enemy.

Brainiac-Luthor paused for a second, as if contemplating something. _"Looks like the Question was right all along," _he said, gloating. _"I kill you, and then, _Armageddon, _right on schedule."_

_ "No!" _That was _it. _Suddenly everything he'd experienced when the Justice Lords kidnapped the team came rushing back to him. _Their _Flash died—did he die this way? Either way, the team had dipped in a downward spiral, and he was _not _going to have a repeat of the Justice Lords. Flash vibrated his molecules, straining against the pain he felt, fast enough until he could feel the soldiers melting. He stood, all defiance, not sure what he was going to do but more than ready to do it.

Brainiac-Luthor smirked at him—_robots don't smirk, dammit!—_and his gun melted. _"Are you going to _fight _me, _boy?"

Flash's eyes widened and, before he could stop himself, he was turning and running. He didn't know why he did it—actually, no, he did. He'd always been a runner. Even before the accident and he got his powers. Running was in his blood, and not just in the athletic sense. He'd been running from his problems for as long as he could remember.

God, he was such a coward. Tears threatened to pour out of his eyes and into the eyepieces of his cowl, and it wasn't because of the wind. _He flew past Chicago. _When his parents left, he ran. When Barry died, he ran. And what was he doing now? _Running._

_ He zipped through Japan._

He left his team. He left that psychopathic _robot-man _who was hell-bent on destroying his _home. _It was too hard to face and he was running all over again. _Egypt. Atlantic Ocean. _Why the _hell _was he _running?_

When he came up on Brainiac-Luthor again he realized why. At this speed the robot-man was almost frozen, inching along as he moved some metal with his stupid telekinesis or whatever. Flash glared at him. He wasn't _running _this time. A second later, Brainiac-Luthor was missing a gold plate on his arm as he skidded back against the concrete.

Flash knew what to do now. He'd never done it before, never _pushed _himself this far, but he had to do it. He _had _to.

The second time Brainiac-Luthor knew he was coming and it made no difference. Flash gave him another blow as he sped past, and then another, almost in the same relative second as when he left. And then again. And then _again. _He didn't know when he stopped, but all of a sudden things seemed twenty times more painful now running. Flash almost _never _got tired running.

He slid to a stop in front of Brainiac-Luthor, staring down at him. Flash vibrated in place, electricity crackling around his body. That should've alarmed him, but he had other things on his mind. Brainiac-Luthor was on the ground, trying to prop himself up on his elbows, but Flash was there, faster than human thought. He vibrated both hands and shoved them into Brainiac-Luthor's exposed skin as if they were pure air, vibrating faster and faster. There was a high pitched wail in his ears. Flash didn't stop.

The resulting explosion should've knocked him off his feet, but it didn't. Flash's eyesight went out with the blue-white bang. He thought that's what knocked him back into focus. All of his muscles were on _fire, _tingling with the leftover electricity flowing through his veins. Luthor was on the ground, naked, panting and staring up at him like he couldn't believe Flash had just completely _owned_ him. There was no trace of Brainiac anywhere.

There was something strange about the rocks, Flash noticed then. They were floating, for one thing, going… _up?_

Flash looked around, terrified. They weren't supposed to do that, right? He caught the looks on his friends' faces. At least they were conscious now. He managed a couple of shaky steps toward them, that shaky, tingly, painful feeling rushing back to him. "I feel kinda… funny."

There was a bright flash of light, and he thought he heard Shayera yell his name, and then suddenly he was… _somewhere._

Everything was light. Light and speed, _pure _speed. The colors danced in front of his eyes and he could feel himself, in tangible, except _intangible, _form as he stood on… _whatever _it was he was standing on. There was a soft buzzing in his ears, a lull like a lullaby that was so warm and inviting he was beyond ready to sink into its embrace. A feeling of happiness and content washed over him, and he was convinced there was nothing that could make this experience any better.

And then he saw Barry.

His uncle hadn't aged a bit, now only a few years older than Wally himself, dressed in the familiar crimson red costume that Wally bore now. The cowl was down, revealing Barry's blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He walked up to Wally and gave him a smile.

Flash was stunned. He hadn't seen his uncle in almost ten years, and yet here he was. Unexpected tears sprang to his eyes and he took a hesitant step forward. "Barry?" His voice echoed into the light and speed and colors.

"Hey, kid."

Oh, yeah, that was definitely Barry. Flash hadn't heard him call him that since… since Barry died protecting the universe. For a second Wally's mouth didn't work as he tried to figure out what to say. "I missed you," slipped out before he could stop it, and a blush crept to his cheeks,

His uncle laughed. "Yeah, me too, kid. But we're gonna have to wait a little longer to catch up."

Wally stared at him. "What?"

Barry simply inclined his head to somewhere over Wally's shoulder, and turned around to leave. Flash reached out to him, a protest on the tip of his tongue.

_"Flash!"_

Flash jerked towards the sound of Hawkgirl's voice, coming from a jagged slit of purple and blue light that had erupted in the space behind him. "Shayera?" He breathed deeply and let the force of the speed's energy engulf him. It was so enticing, he forgot all about Barry for a second. "It's so _beautiful _here."

He thought about how to phrase what he was feeling in words she'd understand. "There's a force. A… _speed _force. It's calling me home."

Suddenly he remembered Barry, and turned around again to find his uncle. He was already walking away, looking over his shoulder at his nephew as if to say, "You coming?" Flash started after him, but then remembered the rift where Shayera waited. Guiltily he looked between the two, torn.

"I have to go now," he said reluctantly to Shayera, taking a step towards his uncle.

_"No, Wally!"_

Something in her voice made him stop, really stop, and think, just for a second.

_"Take my hand!"_

And just like that, a hand grasped onto his wrist from inside the rift. Wally understood now, what his uncle was saying. _Not my time yet. _But he sent an agonized look at Barry, who was so very far away now Wally could barely make out his face.

_"I'm here, too, Wally," _came John's voice.

_"We're _all _here." _That was Superman himself.

Wally watched as Barry raised two fingers to his temple, and then saluted him. Something they used to do when Barry was his mentor, and Wally was Kid Flash. Flash smiled and, with his free hand, echoed the salute. Then he grabbed onto Shayera's hand, and dove through the opening.

They landed in a heap, Shayera catching him as the rest of his friends crowded the two of them. They were back in the smelly, black, dreary city. It looked like a pig sty compared to… whatever it was Flash had been in.

Shayera held his face, tilting his chin up to get a look at him.

He gave her a weary smile. "I can never go that fast again," he told her honestly. He closed his eyes. "If I do, I don't think I'm coming back."

She hugged him anyways.


End file.
